


Nothing Like You

by jade_earrings



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Choking, I realized I should probably tag those huh, M/M, Mentions of F/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_earrings/pseuds/jade_earrings
Summary: "You sure you want to do this here?" Cain asks as Ash is falling into his lips, full of tequila.
Relationships: Cain Blood/Ash Lynx
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Nothing Like You

**Author's Note:**

> _Sweet and rude, you’re so plain that it's special_ [(Listen)](https://youtu.be/-vtWNDI_EOI)
> 
> Needed some Cainash, so I wrote some. Can you tell I’ve spent a lot of time in bars?

He just… keeps putting himself in Cain's way.

Like a stray cat that keeps coming around. He knows he shouldn't feed it. 

He’d asked around. _Ash Lynx._

They’d laughed. _He fucks everybody._

Cain is skeptical. 

Still, Ash fits seamlessly into every category of every girl that Cain won’t fuck with. And yet, Ash also reminds him of some of the ones he _has_ fucked with. Size queens, screamers, a few brunettes, some blondes. But mostly, he reminds Cain of this one redhead he ran into by chance a couple years ago while he was working security at one of the clubs on the East side. No curves, boyish body, long legs. She had a sharp tongue just like Ash’s, and that night, he ate her ass and fingered her until she came twice and until he was almost sober. 

She was insane, but part of him wishes he could have held onto her. And now...

He just... keeps coming around. 

_Just business. Just business._

That’s what Ash always said. In a way that made it clear those weren’t his words, that he’d heard them from someone or something else. _Just business._ Like he was taunting him. Cain knew what he was doing. And yet…

He keeps showing up. And Cain keeps letting him. And he knows Ash isn't going to stop until he gets what he wants. 

Like tonight. 

"Hey, Princess."

It’s an inside joke between them now. Ash laughs, and Cain can see him relaxing. 

“Making your usual rounds?” Cain is fascinated. He watches Ash, every movement, every time his tongue passes over his lips, every tick of his eyes as they scan the environment. Always scanning, always alert, always poised, wound tight, ready to spring. “Or is tonight special,” Cain adds. 

“Oh, yeah.” Ash’s eyes flicker. “Definitely special.” He gives Cain a look so smoldering that it almost makes him weak in the knees. But he’s not interested in playing games. Even though this doesn’t quite feel like a game. Not completely, anyway. 

"What do you want?" Cain asks him. 

"You know what I want," Ash answers, one hip leaning against the pool table. 

"Maybe." Cain watches him. "But you still have to tell me." 

“Nine-ball?” Ash already has his hand wrapped around a pool stick, chalking the tip with his other hand. 

“That’s it?” Cain laughs as Ash sets his cue aside and starts racking the table. “Sure.” 

Ash pops off a few clean shots, then gets a little sloppy toward the middle. He orders a couple more drinks, and to Cain’s surprise, he starts to shoot better once he’s drunk. Or maybe it doesn’t surprise him. 

Just over halfway through, Ash has a proposition for him. 

”If you lose, you have to fuck me.”

Cain is conflicted. 

“I won’t lose,” he tells Ash. 

“Sure.” Ash is amused. 

Cain beats him. 

It’s down to one shot, and Cain sinks it as Ash watches on in disbelief, which he can’t hide now that he’s this hammered. It’s an empty win, hollow. It’s the only thing keeping him from taking Ash to the bathroom and setting him on the sink and fucking into him. He imagines how Ash’s moans would sound next to his ear. 

Not tonight. 

Ash storms out of the club, clutching his pack of cigarettes, and he lights one before he’s completely out the door. Cain can smell the smoke waft through the air as he goes after him. 

“What’s your problem?” Cain asks him. He can’t believe he’s chasing him down. In his own club. 

Ash exhales smoke harshly out of his nose. 

“If you didn’t want to fuck me that bad, you could have just said so,” he growls. 

Cain stops. Blinks. He has no idea what to do. 

Ash inhales again, then blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth. 

“You’re crazy,” Cain tells him. 

Ash laughs. 

Cain steps forward, take’s Ash’s jaw in his hand, tilts his face up, and kisses him. He tastes like marshmallows and cigarette smoke. 

One night, Ash is drunk. He shows up at the Mexican restaurant in North Harlem, alone. 

Cain’s laughter dies on his lips as he sees Ash walk through the door. 

He just saunters up to Cain’s table. For a second, Cain can’t speak. He knows there is nothing he could say or do to keep the force that is Ash Lynx from moving toward him. 

“You lost?” His guys have a hand on their guns, but Cain knows better. If Ash came armed, and if he was going to shoot, they’d all be dead already. That’s not what he’s worried about. 

"It's cool," Cain says. He fixes his gaze on Ash as he stands up from the table slowly. No sudden movements. 

He takes a step toward Ash. He's only a couple feet away from Ash now, and towering over him.

"What are you doing?" he asks Ash. Part of him doesn't want to know the answer. Not tonight, not now. 

“It’s Taco Tuesday,” Ash says simply. 

Cain can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

Ash is reckless. Too reckless. It turns him on. 

“You need another drink,” Cain says finally, steering Ash toward the bar. 

As they sit down, Cain’s hand makes a motion nearly imperceptible to the human eye, and the bartender nods and starts making a drink in an ice-cold glass that fogs when Ash wraps his fingers around it. Ash turns toward the bar, staring straight ahead, as if he’s trying, too late, to seem detached and uninterested. 

It doesn’t work. 

"You sure you want to do this here?" Cain asks as Ash is falling into his lips, full of tequila.

He can’t help it. He kisses Ash back. 

When Ash pulls away, his eyes are hazy and his smile is lopsided. He’s all eyelashes and lips and teeth. For a second, Cain can’t move. 

“Here, or somewhere else,” Ash answers. His head cocks slightly, and he’s looking at Cain like he’d blow him on his knees against the side of a building or on Cain’s nice sheets. The ones he just put on the bed, luckily. 

He's a firecracker. In a way that Cain isn't used to. 

Ash pukes in the alley, and Cain is unperturbed. He pats his back, his hand lingering against Ash’s spine as he straightens up. 

“You good?” he asks him. 

Ash wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Yeah.” 

Something in Cain wants to sweep him up and carry him bridal style to his apartment, light some candles and lay him on the bed and tear into him. Instead, he keeps his hand against Ash’s lower back as they make their way down the alley. When they reach the street, the streetlight flickers, illuminating the silvery strands in Ash’s hair. Cain hears a click, and then sees the flame of Ash’s lighter, casting a soft glow onto his face as he lights a cigarette. It’s a long one, one of the 100s, a cigarette that Cain associates only with older women. 

They barely make it through the door. Cain wraps his teeth around Ash’s jaw as he presses him against the wall, the front of his jeans squeaking against Ash’s, and when he pushes his hips against him, Ash makes a noise that Cain knows he’ll remember for the rest of his life. He’ll spend his whole life chasing that sound, looking for it in every person that he fucks. Ash’s head falls back against the wall and Cain’s gaze follows the column of his throat down to his collarbones that are peeking out from underneath the neck of his t-shirt. 

Ash grabs his hips and in one too-smooth movement, pushes Cain back against the wall as his fingers work at his belt. Ash sets the heels of his hands against Cain’s hipbones as he holds him there, as he mouths the front of Cain’s underwear, drunk and sloppy. His cock pulses against Ash's lips, and Ash can feel it, because he laughs a little and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and slides the fabric down just enough so that he springs free, and Ash's mouth is on him now, hot and wet.

He comes so hard down Ash’s throat that his legs shake. 

Cain can tell Ash is doing it the way he thinks Cain wants to. But Cain wants Ash to do it the way _he_ wants to. Whatever Ash wants, Cain is willing to give it to him. 

The days blur together. 

Before, Cain was used to girls waiting for him to get off work, waiting for him outside the back doors of clubs. And now...

He pictures Ash in delicate lingerie, watches himself run his fingertips over the lace right before he tears it off of him. He pictures eating him out until he comes all over his clean sheets. He pictures Ash coming with his name on his lips. 

_The Lynx. A wild animal._

Cain doesn’t see it. He likes to think he sees Ash for what he really is. 

And now, Ash is riding him, swallowing his cock like it’s nothing. He lays his hands over Cain’s chest, his fingernails digging lightly into his collarbones.

He’s making sounds that Cain has only heard in porn. Classy porn. He hadn’t lit candles, but he gets the feeling that Ash doesn’t need that. There’s a low glow from the streetlights outside the window, illuminating every curve of Ash’s body. 

Slowly, Cain reaches up and wraps his hand around Ash’s throat. Ash’s head falls back, his sharp Adam’s apple moving against the heel of Cain’s hand as he keens and comes all over Cain’s chest, pulsing around his cock as he shoots inside him. In that moment, Cain thinks he finally understands. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tweet tweet](https://twitter.com/jade_earrings)


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